


Exclusive TV Offer

by MapleMooseMuffin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A few years in the future, Canon Compliant, Dildos, Fluff, If You Squint - Freeform, Insomnia, M/M, No Smut, Post-Canon, Shiro and Keith are 2-3 years apart in age, Shiro is very briefly triggered by being snuck up on, and other sex toys, just a lot of talk about, my representation of that may be inaccurate too, very vague reference to Keith's Galra heritage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 05:06:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleMooseMuffin/pseuds/MapleMooseMuffin
Summary: Shiro discovers a late night sex toy infomercial, and is equal parts baffled by society and filled with morbid curiosity. Keith makes fun of him.





	Exclusive TV Offer

**Author's Note:**

> First of all there is no smut. I tagged M for the gratuitous amounts of sex toys and general discussion about sex toys.
> 
> This takes place after the Galra have been defeated and Team Voltron has settled (more or less) back into life on Earth. At least a few years have passed since episode one, but it's left vague enough for you to decide just how long exactly that's been. 
> 
> I wrote this because I stumbled across an actual infomercial for sex toys late one sleepless night, and once I pictured Shiro finding it I couldn't get the thought out of my head. Every sex toy mentioned here is a real thing, though I invented some names, and I don't think either of the saleswomen were named Barbara.

            The glaring light of the television stung Shiro’s eyes in the early morning darkness of their small living room. He squinted against it and dialed the volume down to 8, just loud enough to be heard without carrying back to the bedroom. Keith, like the rest of the sane world, was asleep, and while Shiro was sick of staring at the same dark shapes in their room for the past four hours, he didn’t want to disrupt his boyfriend’s rest.

            When his eyes had adjusted enough that it wasn’t painful to look at the screen, Shiro began idly flipping through the channels. He didn’t really expect to find anything worth watching at 4:15 in the morning. For the most part, life on Earth hadn’t changed while the Paladins were at war – there were a couple new world leaders, including a new president of the United States, and the latest diet food craze had changed to seaweed, which Shiro was not complaining about. It was only when Keith turned on the local radio, or Shiro turned on the television, that the changes became jarringly obvious. Pop culture moved so quickly that the media they came back to was almost alien to what Shiro remembered from before the Kerberos mission. He flipped past a sitcom he’d never seen and paused for a moment on a car commercial, listening to the background song by a band he couldn’t name. The smaller things like this were part of what made readjusting difficult.

            He flipped on, passing a show he used to know, whose plot he had since lost track of, and reruns of cartoons he felt too old to watch. Soap operas, home renovation shows, blank screens on channels that didn’t bother wasting the effort of broadcasting this late. Shiro sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and settling his chin in his free hand. What did other insomniacs do with their time, he wondered. Play video games? Binge the latest season of that god-awful teen vampire drama? He snorted and flicked past a cookware infomercial. That show had been in its eleventh season back when Shiro was still at the Garrison.

            A brightly colored product was being advertised in the next infomercial, and Shiro paused, unsure at first glance what it even was. His eyebrows shot up as he read the product’s name on the side of the screen, and he turned back to the strangely shaped silicone object held in the neatly manicured hands of the saleswoman on TV.

            “Our Pretty in Pink Dual Penetrator is guaranteed to please. And you know, Barb, what I love about this model is this little feature here. The patented Suck Off suction cup allows you to mount this beauty to any flat surface: your shower wall, your desk, your bedroom door…”

            Shiro knew he was occasionally known to fall victim to morbid curiosity – like the time he’d nearly died trying a spoonful of an alien spice that even _Lance_ found too hot – but watching a dildo infomercial at four in the morning topped the list of choices he’d made against all better judgement. He couldn’t help it. A ‘Pretty in Pink Dual Penetrator’ was the last thing he expected to see on television, and he’d accounted for the late-night porn shows. What was most bizarre, perhaps, was the coupling of a sex toy with the mundane infomercial setting. It hadn’t occurred to Shiro before that there were commercials for this kind of market. Sex toys seemed like the sort of thing one searched for in a private window and ordered from a company with a discreate packaging promise.

            By the time he’d adjusted to the fact that this was a real thing he was seeing on television, the saleswomen had moved on to another product, throwing him for another loop. This time they held up what looked like a metallic lipstick tube, and Shiro had no idea what it was for.

            “Couldn’t sleep?”

            Shiro leapt to his feet and whirled around, heat shooting through his metal arm and thrumming with a low hum as the purple light of his hand threw shadows across the curtains and Keith’s surprised face. The younger, for his part, took a _very_ slow step backwards, careful to keep any sign of combat out of his form as he held his hands up in an innocent, peaceful gesture. Shiro heaved for air.

            “It’s okay, Shiro,” Keith said, voice soft but firm. Shiro felt like he couldn’t focus. “It’s okay. I’m Keith. It’s just me.”

            He bit the inside of his lip and forced himself to hold a breath, trying to ground himself. Keith. Just Keith. The words had some semblance of meaning, but not much while adrenaline whirled through most of him, and electricity through the rest.

            “Can you hear me?” Keith asked, in the same tone. Gentle, even, and steady. Shiro released the breath and pulled in another. Then it clicked that he needed to answer. He gave a short nod. “You’re safe. Focus on me, alright?” He exhaled and gave another nod. Slowly he evened out his breathing as Keith repeated simple, short phrases. The adrenaline drained off, and then Shiro realized his hand was still glowing. When he deactivated it, Keith smiled.

            “Good?”

            Shiro took another deep breath, for good measure. “Good. Sorry.”

            Keith shook his head and lowered his arms. “I thought you heard me come in,” he said by way of apology. “I guess you were too busy watching…” He angled his body sideways to catch sight of their modest TV. Shiro flushed and turned back for the remote. “…What _are_ you watching?”

            “It’s, uh, just an infomercial. I don’t know, I was just flipping through.” Each word came out with less and less confidence as he stammered, embarrassed and looking for the remote, which somehow had vanished.

            “Uh _huh_ ,” Keith said. Shiro could hear the skeptical look he was given. “Can I come over?”

            “Yeah.” His answer was automatic, used to Keith checking in. Keith padded over, his socked feet making soft pats against the hardwood floor. Normally Shiro would have picked up on the sound, if he hadn’t been focusing on something else. He glanced back at the screen with a new wave of embarrassment.

            “Is this a commercial for vibes?” Keith asked, sitting down on the couch. He grunted and shifted, dragging the remote out from between the cushions. Shiro made a grab for it, but Keith was fast and pulled it out of his reach, forcing him to come closer.

            “I don’t know. Come on, let me have that.”

            “Nope, I wanna see what was so interesting.”

            “ _Keith_.”

            Keith laughed and buried the remote underneath his bare thighs. Shiro huffed and raised an eyebrow.

            “You know I can bench you, right? Sitting on it isn’t that effective.”

            Keith shrugged, the shoulder of Shiro’s stolen shirt fluttering against his upper arm. “Yeah, but you’re a gentleman.” Shiro continued giving him the look. Keith stared, challenging him to say otherwise.

            Shiro sighed, too tired to bother. Keith was going to tease him whether he changed the channel or not, and it was more tempting to just sit beside his boyfriend and lean into his warmth. So he did that instead.

            “Seriously, though, why are you watching a sex toy show?” Keith ran a hand through Shiro’s short hair, affection in his voice along with humor.

            “’m not really _watching_ ,” Shiro said. “It was just, on. And it caught me off guard, y’know?”

            Keith snorted. “Offended your delicate sensibilities?”

            “More so surprised me.” Shiro leaned into the light petting, feeling warmed just by Keith’s presence. “I didn’t actually know what it was at first – they had some weird models on.”

            Keith tilted his head. “What do you mean?” He turned to look at the latest product – something they were calling a Rabbit Thruster. It was phallic, but with a strange arm like attachment, and was painfully purple and vaguely sparkly.

            “Like _that_.” Shiro gestured at it with his left hand, palm open like he was directing Keith towards a picturesque landscape instead of a strangely named sex toy.

            “It vibrates,” Keith noted. Shiro frowned at the screen.

            “But what is that arm thing for? And why a rabbit? Because they breed so much?”

            Keith shook against him with restrained laughter. Shiro shifted his weight, resettling his head on Keith’s shuddering shoulder. Keith wrapped his arm around him and gave the side of Shiro’s head a light pat.

            “Why are you analyzing dildos?” he laughed. His mirth was infectious enough to make Shiro chuckle.

            “Is it a dildo? I’ve never seen one like that. What’s with the arm?”

            “Barb says it’s for your clit.” Keith gave Shiro a wry look. “Well, not _yours_ , specifically.” Shiro smacked his side, drawing another laugh out of the younger. “I don’t know what’s more of a turn off, the fact that they’re being so mundane about this stuff, or that their spokeswoman is named _Barb_. You’d think they’d get, like, a pornstar to do this. I can’t imagine they’d be against taking a job where they get to keep their clothes on.”

            “I still can’t wrap my head around how many different, weird models they have. I know we were gone for a while, but surely the dildo research couldn’t have advanced this far in just a couple of years.” He gestured again to the television, where Barb had moved on to yet another one of her “All-time favorite toys – this one is my best friend.” Her ‘best friend’ was shaped like a tongue on a stick. Granted, it was a bit more self-explanatory than the other things he’d seen that night.

            “I can’t believe you just said ‘dildo research’,” Keith cackled. He covered half his face with his free hand, shaking his head as he laughed and watching Shiro out of the corner of his eye. Shiro smiled, loving the way the light of the TV caught in Keith’s eyes and outlined his beautiful face. Keith’s bedhead fluttered around his shoulder and Shiro’s forehead, tickling them both. “Why am I in love with you?” Keith asked. Shiro’s smile spread, edging on painful. He turned his head to kiss the bare skin beneath his cheek.

            Keith gave him a soft look around the laughter and tilted his head down to press against Shiro’s. He straightened again when the stretch of his neck became painful.

            “I guess there’s just a lot of sex tech that I was never aware of,” Shiro said. He was content to just rest here, pressed into Keith’s space and riding the easy swell and fall of his side as he breathed.

            Keith raised an eyebrow at him, looking amused and bemused. “Takashi Shirogane, you had _twenty years_ on Earth before the space war to learn about this shit. How the hell did you escape the Garrison barracks being openly gay and not knowing about dildos?”

            “It was _nineteen_ years,” Shiro said, leveling Keith with a faux-stern look, “and I know what a _dildo_ is. For God’s sake, what do you take me for?” He jabbed at Keith’s side, making the other squirm away with a ticklish yelp. Shiro pursued him mercilessly, tickling and crowding Keith up against the arm of the couch until he was trapped. Shiro snuggled in closer, wrapping his arms around Keith, and gave him a peck on the nose for his trouble. Keith squirmed a bit, breathless from laughter.

            “Don’t act like it.”

            Shiro settled back against his shoulder. Keith twisted in his arms to lay more comfortably across the couch, pulling Shiro up onto his chest.

            “I just never realized there were so many.” Shiro pressed a light kiss to Keith’s jaw. Keith hummed at the feeling.

            “You keep saying that.” He gave Shiro a fond look before turning back to face the TV. Shiro followed his gaze.

            “Yeah, but I mean, look at that.” He nodded against Keith’s chest. “That thing’s tiny. How does it even work?”

            Keith angled his head, apparently trying to listen better to whatever Barb was saying. Shiro shook his head.

            “Don’t answer that. I don’t actually want to know.”

            Keith grinned at him but complied, stretching to drag the throw blanket on the back of the couch down over them. He shifted stiffly against the hard armrest, so Shiro reached back behind him to pull the spare pillow free from their tangled legs and offer it to Keith. He took it, shifted, and resettled, easing back with a comfortable sound. Shiro kissed his cheek.

            “There can’t be that many,” Keith mumbled. Shiro watched his lashes flutter, his eyes half lidded as he watched the screen.

            “There were a lot,” Shiro said.

            Keith smelled like him, since he was wearing his shirt, and in the morning, after they changed, his stolen shirt would smell like Keith. The thought warmed him and brought a little smile to his lips.

            Barb set down her latest prize, and the camera cut back to her and the other saleswoman seated in a faux living room, discussing the amazing value in their exclusive TV offer. Beyond them, on the low coffee table, lay the full array of products they’d shown. Keith leaned forward, brow furrowed.

            “What the hell? There are like, twenty there!”

            “I told you.”

            “There’s no way those are all different things, right?”

            “They’re different,” Shiro laughed. He tugged at Keith’s side, trying to get his human pillow to settle back down. He was finally starting to feel the vague tinglings of tiredness, as if he might actually fall asleep if they stayed curled up like this for long enough.

            “No way,” Keith repeated in a milder tone. He allowed Shiro to ease him back into place, lids drooping further. Shiro hummed and gave a few pats to the stomach.

            “They’re giving out a number,” he noted. “We could always call and ask if they really have that many.”

            “Okay, time to change the channel,” Keith grunted. Shiro laughed, low and rough.

            “You have the remote.”

            “Nah, it fell when you attacked me.”

            “I didn’t _attack_ you.”

            “Attacked me.”

            Keith’s eyes were closed now, and he leaned closer to Shiro, seeking his warmth. Shiro smiled and tightened his hold just a bit.

            The infomercial faded out, changing to a black screen with plain white text announcing that the following program was paid for by Darbie’s Dishware. Shiro listened to the even rise and fall of Keith’s breaths as he fell asleep beneath him. With his head pressed against Keith’s chest, he could hear the other’s steady heartbeat – just a few beats quicker than a human’s. A unique but familiar rhythm.

            Between the soft background music of the dish commercial, the gentle rocking of Keith’s rising and falling chest, and the sleepy tendrils Shiro felt creeping up on him in this warm place, nestled between the back of the couch and the love of his life, Shiro felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. Taking a deep, even breath, he pressed another kiss to Keith’s chest and closed his eyes, giving in to the promise of sleep.


End file.
